Roses and First Dates: A Sequel to Snow Angels and Roses
by FreeSpiritSeeker
Summary: At last, your long-awaited sequel to Snow Angels and Roses. Finally after working up the courage to ask Hermione out, Draco now has to come up with the perfect date.
**After receiving so many requests for a sequel for my short one shot Snow Angels and Roses, here it is! I hope you enjoy Draco and Hermione's first date!**

 **~J.**

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Draco paced back and forth, absolutely terrified. He'd finally done it. He'd asked his Angel out on a date. And she'd completely shocked him when she'd said yes. He'd hoped. He'd prayed. But he knew in his deepest heart that there was no way that someone as intelligent and incredible and on the side of the Light as Hermione Granger would ever agree to go out with an ex-Death Eater. But she'd agreed, and now he had absolutely no idea what to do. He just knew that he had to make this the most perfect date in the history of dating.

First thing's first, he decided. This was Hermione. What did Hermione love? Books, of course. The library was her favorite place in all of Hogwarts. Everyone knew that if you were looking for the girl, the best place to check first was the library. But what else? For years she'd been obsessed with freeing house elves until a short time after the battle, Potter's house elf Kreacher had sat the girl down and explained that the health and well-being of a house elf was vital to the house and wizard or witch that they served. If they were freed, and went too long without finding a new family or person to serve, they slowly went mad and died. The poor girl had cried buckets and immediately stopped trying to force clothes on every house elf she came into contact with. Now she knitted hats and gloves for a local orphanage, who greatly appreciated her contributions.

Wait a second, he remembered hearing (okay, overhearing) her telling Potter that she missed having Chinese take-away, particularly General Tso's chicken, whatever that was. Perhaps he could talk the house elves into preparing it and a variety of other dishes you'd be able to acquire from such an establishment? He knew that the elves were always happy to please...

Now that he had a vague idea of what to do he felt a little better. He just didn't know how he was going to pull off a picnic in the library. Madame Pince would never allow food or drink near her precious books. So how was he going to pull this off? he thought as he paced even more furiously.

Suddenly the answer to his dilemma seemed to be staring him in the face and he stopped mid-step. He grinned and finished his planning in his head and raced to the owlery to send his Mother a message. He needed more of the silvery-blue roses like the one he'd given Hermione earlier. Many, many more.

The next day, Hermione was sitting in their common room of the Head Boy and Girl's quarters. She was waiting for Draco, nervous and shyly fidgeting with the hem of her skirt as she sat on the edge of the sofa in front of the fire. Her hair had been smoothed back into an elegant-looking updo with Ginny's help, and she was wearing a long-sleeved ankle-length dress that fit her beautifully. Just to make Draco smile, it was in Slytherin green, a fact that had made both Harry and Ginny chuckle. Keeping with the Slytherin theme, her jewelry was simple, but in silver. Small drops in the shape of stars hung from her ears, while a matching Y-style necklace was around her neck, and a thin silver chain with star-shaped charms graced her wrist.

There was a knock at the door and Hermione stood, nearly tripping over her own feet in her hurry to open it. She gasped softly in surprise at Draco. He stood in front of her, his hair pulled back in a short tail (having been growing it out like his father's, a Malfoy tradition that he actually liked). He was dressed in a suit of the deepest black, the tie done in diagonal stripes of Slytherin green and silver. He was holding a bouquet of long stemmed roses in the same beautiful silver-blue shade of the one he'd placed in her hair the day before when he'd finally worked up the nerve to ask her out.

She saw him gulp hard and his eyes traveled from her feet to her hair. "You look beautiful, Hermione," he whispered. She grinned at him and he smiled back, handing her the roses. "For you," he said and she took them from him, placing them on the counter, knowing that the house elves would put them in a vase of water for her. Then Draco was holding out his hand to her. "Shall we?" he asked and she smiled and nodded.

He was suddenly holding his wand. "Trust me?" he asked. She bit her lip and looked into his eyes. There was worry there, he knew exactly how few people would trust someone that had been a convicted (though freed because he'd been forced into being a) Death Eater. She nodded and with a quick wand-motion, her eyes were covered by a blindfold. "Let me guide you. I promise I won't let you fall," he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

True to his word, and no matter that it took a good deal longer than if she'd traveled with her eyes opened, he guided her slowly up numerous sets of stairs. "Stand here for just a moment," he said, and she listened as he seemed to pace back and forth several times. She heard a strange grating sound, like rock being pulled over more rock. And the Draco was back at her side, taking her hand gently in his, and she couldn't help blushing as he ran his thumbs over the back of her hand.

"I'm going to remove the blindfold now, Hermione," he said, and reached up to gently untie it, being careful not to catch her curls in the knot. "You can open your eyes," he whispered to her, his lips grazing the edge of her ear, making her shiver. She blinked her eyes open slowly and felt her jaw drop. She stared at the room, turning in a slow circle. "Oh my Merlin! Draco...this...this is so beautiful!" she cried out.

The room (which she now knew to be the Room of Requirement) was almost a replica of the library from one of her favorite children's movies, Beauty and the Beast, except instead of marble floors they were covered in deep, rich, thick carpeting done in the same silvery-blue as her roses. And indeed, every available surface was covered in the sweet-smelling blooms. Splashes of the same color littered the comfortable-looking overstuffed couches and chairs, and to her surprise there was a large blanket laid out in front of the large marble fireplace.

Draco took her hand, tugging her a step at a time towards the blanket. A picnic basket appeared suddenly at one corner as they began to sit. Draco helped her to sit, careful of her long dress, before he took his own seat. He began to arrange platters of food and the most wonderful scents began to fill the room. Hermione looked on in shock as Draco unloaded the basket, each platter bearing some of her favorite Chinese take-away foods. Her mouth began to water as she saw a platter stacked with a pyramid of crunchy egg rolls and bowls of wonton soup and her very favorite, a deep bowl filled to the brim with General Tso's chicken with broccoli.

She let Draco prepare her a plate, trying not to grin as he clearly didn't know what some of the foods were. While he did that, she prepared two small bowls with soy sauce and sweet-and-sour sauce for the egg rolls and crab rangoon. "Draco, this is seriously the sweetest thing anyone has every done for me," she said softly, taking her plate and grabbing his wrist gently in her hand. She leaned forward, gliding her lips softly over his cheek. She noticed that a blush rose in those high cheekbones and smiled.

"You're worth it," he said simply, and prepared his own plate. As they began to eat, light but upbeat classical music began to play from somewhere in the room, making the both of them beam. She looked up from her own plate just as Draco took a large bite of the General Tso's chicken. "Oh, I should warn you-" she began, as Draco started to cough and choke.

He reached out and grabbed his water goblet, drinking it down. He pounded on his chest for a moment before looking down in disgust at the pile of the chicken on his plate. "...that it's a bit spicy," Hermione continued. Grinning, she used her chopsticks to quickly move the food from his plate to hers. He noticed then that she wasn't using her fork. "What are those?" he asked, motioning towards them.

"They're called chopsticks. In most Asian countries, they're used in lieu of forks. They're a bit difficult to learn to use if you're not used to them," she said.

"Could I try?" he asked, and the RoR's magic had a pair appearing beside the fork he'd been using. Hermione watched in silent amusement as for the next ten minutes Draco attempted to use the chopsticks. Even giving him pointers, he still couldn't grasp the concept, finally just stabbing a pan-fried dumpling. Hermione giggled as he shoved the rather large dumpling in his mouth. He swallowed and grinned at her, making her laugh even harder.

"And now- as promised- for dessert, Twinkle's famous Coconut Cake!" he said, pulling the cake from the basket and slicing each of them a rather large piece of the decadent confection.

Hermione took a bite and groaned in pleasure. "Oh Merlin, I swear it gets better every time she makes it," she moaned. She opened her eyes and blushed. Draco sat, a forkful of cake in midair in front of his mouth as he stared at her, his eyes darkened with desire. He gulped hard and took his bite, closing his eyes in bliss. "I think you're right," he said, his voice thick with the thick, whipped coconut frosting.

They finished their dessert, both of them sighing as they felt full to bursting. Draco stood, and held out his hand to help Hermione to her feet. As they stood, the music in the room slowly changed to a slower-paced melody. "Dance with me, Angel?" he asked. Eyes wide, Hermione nodded. Draco pulled her into his arms, his touch soft. He was amazed at how quickly she meshed her steps with his own, and felt a strange sense of pride and another emotion he couldn't name flow through him when she laid her head on his chest. He looked at her and smiled, she was perfect and he couldn't believe she was actually here with him. But something didn't feel quite right, he thought and looked down at her, finally figuring out what seemed wrong.

Hermione gasped as she felt Draco run his fingers through her hair, loosening the pins holding her hair in place. It fell down her back in a wave of ringlets to the small of her back. She glanced up at him, wondering what had cause him to do something so strange. He merely shrugged and smiled. "I like your curls," he said, fingering one at her temple and smirking when it "sproinged" back into place. He then took her breath away when he dipped her mid-dance-step.

He pulled her back up, and she stumbled, leaning heavily into his chest. Silver eyes met cinnamon and before either of them knew what they were doing, their lips were pressed together in a toe-curling kiss. They pulled apart, gasping for air and looking at each other. And then their lips met again, this time in a gentler, softer kiss. This time when they parted, they smiled at each other.

The sudden gong of the bell tower clock startled them both. They glanced at the clock and gasped when they saw it was midnight. They flew through the dark, quiet hallways of Hogwarts and to their common room. They leaned back against the door, breathing heavily, amazed that they hadn't gotten caught out of bed so late.

Draco walked Hermione to her room's doorway, right across from his own, like the proper Pureblood gentleman he'd been taught to be. He ran a fingertip over her cheek and leaned in kissing her one last time. "Goodnight, Angel," he whispered against her lips.

"Goodnight, Draco," she whispered back, as if anyone were going to hear them. She turned and walked into her room. "Draco?" she called, as he turned to walk back into his own room. He looked back at her questioningly. "Hogsmeade trip is this weekend. Would you like to come...with me?" she asked nervously.

He smiled. "I would be honored, Hermione," he said. The two young loves closed their doors and made their way to bed. As Hermione pulled back the covers, she gasped when she saw one more beautiful silver-blue rose upon her pillow. She clutched it to her breast and that night dreamed of silver eyes and roses.


End file.
